


The Tie Tier

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Flirting, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Phil can't tie his ties anymore, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Snark, Sort of plot, Spies & Secret Agents, Teasing, Ties & Cravats, awkward dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was inspired by Clark mentioning Coulson can't tie his ties anymore and then my brain crossed it over with Coulson and Price doing the cat-an-mouse thing and this is what resulted!  Title is silly, I know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tie Tier

She’s in his room.

Sitting on his bed, like she just _belongs_ here, while he sorts through the ties in his closet.

It’s been awhile.

 _The tie_. He’s talking about the tie.

“You want to wear your tie,” she chimes in, shoulders slightly shrugged as she watches him.

He wants to wear his suit. His armor.

“To look nice for your date with evil, huh?”

He turns to give her a warning look.

“It's not a date. She has intel. I want it.”

His right hand rests for a moment on a tie with a more aggressive pattern.

He decides against it.

“It’s DC,” he adds. “I’ll look less conspicuous dressed like another bureaucrat.”

“At some expensive restaurant.”

“She chose it,” he says, giving her a smirk. “They like to spend taxpayer money flagrantly. Have you seen her wardrobe?”

“Hadn't thought to look,” she says, clicking her tongue. “Tell me all about it, Phil.”

He hands her the tie, very blue with darker contrasting stripes. He tries to turn his collar.

It’s frustrating, forgetting to do only one thing at a time.

“Let me.”

After all, that’s why she’s here. She agreed to help with the tie.

Once he got over the loss of his tie collection, after the loss of his hand, letting go of the suits wasn’t that hard.

Her fingers fiddle with the top button and finish it, as she neatly turns up his collar.

Why is she bringing all of this up, anyway?

“You're not-“

“I don't want you to compromise....us,” she says after a moment, making the first loop of the tie.

“Us?”

Her hands still. “Yes. SHIELD.” She nods when he doesn’t reply. “Hold on, what did you think-“

“I didn't-“ he shakes his head. He did, but, he’s going to lie right now. For sure.

“You think I'm _jealous_? Of _this_ chick?”

“No, I didn't say that.”

“She tried to kill Joey,” she says, getting back to the tie, knotting here eyebrows together. “She called you the undead!”

He tries not to smile at her indignation on his behalf. It’s touching.

“At least if you want to accuse me of jealousy,” she keeps on. “Let it be over someone _worthy_. Like Romanov.”

“It was a funny story, that's all. Nothing ever happened with me and Romanov. You laughed.”

It _is_ a funny story. It was a professional call. She needed his suit in a pinch and sometimes you see people you work with naked, that’s all.

“What do I know? I had a crush on the New Head of HYDRA,” she says, exasperated.

“I don't have a crush, or any other romantic feelings, towards Ms. Price,” he promises.

She finishes with a sigh. “There you go. Sorry. I'm not a good tie tier.”

“It's fine,” he says, looking down at it, running his fingers over the fabric.

“Thank you.”

 

####

 

He thought there would be more talking. There’s not a lot of talking.

The restaurant is empty, except for the two of them, of course.

The waiter brought back their drinks.

She complimented his tie and his scotch selection.

He tried to stir things up a bit with some wit, but, she’s not taking the bait like she usually does.

She must _really_ want something. More than usual.

“How did you manage the tie?” she says, lifting her finger to point at his neck.

“I had some help.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” she says, flatly. “Someone like you would be much more precise, I'd imagine.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“As in, anal.”

“You learn to let go of things,” he says, with a deep sigh.

She shuts her eyes for a moment. “Promise me that's your last hand joke of the evening?”

He sits back in his chair and shrugs at her.

“Your tie tier,” she keeps on after it. “She gets to be up close and personal.”

He gives her an impassive face. She’s put that to practice lately for him.

He’s getting better.

“Like your right hand, I’d guess?”

“I thought we were done with the hand jokes?” he says, narrowing his eyes at her.

The hints she’s dropping, he doesn’t like it. This isn’t about their shared interest at all, this is about Sk-

Daisy.

“Don't you think it's a little unfair,” she says, picking up her knife. “To be talking about cooperation while hiding one of these aliens right under my nose all along?”

He smiles a little, but feels his jaw tighten.

“If you give her to me, I might not turn my scorched earth policy on your pathetic ragtag agency.”

“I think we're done here,” he answers, standing.

“We won't hurt her,” Price says, throwing the knife to the table, pushing up out of her chair. “But she needs to be contained.”

“Never.”

“Phil, don’t be such a sap,” she says. “If it’s not me, it’ll be someone else. We at least can agree on that.”

He turns his back to her to walk.

“Not so fast.”

The sound of a gun cocking.

He slowly pivots and sees her handbag open on the table, where she hid the weapon, then meets her eyes.

“And unlike you pansies, these bullets are real,” she says, focusing her gaze.

“Shooting me won't change anything.”

“It won't? Let's find out how many lives you have,” she says, taking aim.

There’s a sound like air freezing in place and then a clatter that builds, as the gun starts to shake apart in her hands.

She holds it till the very last then lets the remains fall to the table.

“What happened to a little privacy?” she smirks.

“I just didn't want to hang out with your creepy sidekick again,” he says, gesturing towards her. “He stares.”

“Why don't you come out?” she calls, loudly, looking past him towards the dark entrance to the restaurant. “Show me what you can _really_ do?”

She tolerates the silence for a few seconds only.

“Fine.”

She snaps her fingers and the creepy sidekick appears, from behind the waiter station and fires off a shot at Coulson.

He raises his hand, naturally, the one he can afford to lose, but he doesn’t need to.

The bullet is deflected and the man goes flying, as he feels Daisy step up behind him.

Price looks awestruck, rather than defeated.

“What is it? Vibrations?” she asks wildly, coming around the table towards them.

“Yeah. I'm gonna _vibrate_ your ass...”

“A word of advice? You need a better closer, honey.”

“Let's go,” he whispers, looking at Daisy’s dark expression.

She sends another wave towards Price as they both run for the door.

 

####

 

She throws her arms around his neck when they’re in the safehouse, feeling at least a little confident they weren’t followed.

They’ll be extracted tomorrow. They didn’t want to risk leading Price back to the base.

Provided she doesn’t already know exactly where that is. It wouldn’t surprise him.

“I was worried.”

He hesitates, for some reason at this confession, then embraces her back.

“You had my back the whole time. Just like we planned.”

“What if she figured out how my powers worked or-“

“She didn't, it's okay.” He hugs her more tightly, feeling her release into him.

“She knows now, I guess? And did we even get anything?” she asks, pulling back to look at his face, disappointed, as he stares back at her.

“We did,” he says, squeezing her arms. “She wants Inhumans.”

“We knew that, already,” she says, tossing her holster off and onto the table.

“As weapons,” he adds. “Her work all this time? Tracking aliens. Arming both sides? She knew about Project TAHITI.”

“Like the Kree,” she says, looking a little ill.

“She knows more than she’s letting on. This isn’t about her protecting people,” he says, dropping his ICER next to her holster.

“She probably sell us off to the highest bidder,” she says, bitterly.

Then another thought occurs to him.  In addition to changing the general mood.

“She wasn't interested in me at all.”

He looks over and sees Daisy smiling sadly at him, her head tilted to one side.  
  
“You were bait.  Sorry.”  
  
“Yeah,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “I feel kind of used. I have feelings, too.”  
  
“I know,” she answers, unlatching her arms and walking towards him. “You look _very_ handsome in your tie.”

It sounds a little charged and he feels like the room just shot up to a hundred degrees.

She reaches out and touches her fingers to the tie.

“The night’s still young. Hungry? Hangry?” he smiles nervously.

“I’m kind of _hangry_ now that you mention it,” she laughs. “Not one of those fancy places, I hope.”

“No way,” he replies, trying to be cool. _Be cool._ “There's this great food truck I've been wanting to try.”

They’re joking around now, because they both know the rules, and the first rule of the safehouse is that you do not leave the safehouse once you’re in.

Unless you get an all clear.

“In that case, you won't be needing this tie,” she says, slipping her finger through the knot.

It was one thing to have her help him getting it on. It takes on another meaning entirely when she starts to take it apart.

That’s what he feels like is about to happen.

Building? For months now.

Her in every part of his life, not just his head.

“You won't need that suit,” he manages to breathe out, looking at the gauntlets covering her wrists as she makes him come undone.

He knows how her powers work. She must be able to feel every embarrassingly hopeful vibration he’s giving off right now.

And just as if she were reading his mind, she says, “We’re both kind of overdressed.”

Then pulls on the rest of his tie until their mouths are together.

They kiss once, first. Soft. Exploratory.

His hands do what they always want to do.

He rests his fingers against her face, caressing her, sweeping against her hair, as her hands push against his chest, taking his shirt in fists, pulling him down into her as she pushes up like she knows exactly where she wants this to go.

“I think there's soup in the pantry,” she says, breaking away for a moment, starting to take off her gauntlets as fast as she can.

She definitely has an idea of where she wants this to go.

“I can make grilled cheese,” he says, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the table.

“Perfect,” she says, as he lifts her up and presses her back to the door, kisses her thoroughly this time.

More in line with her expectations, he thinks.

 

####

 

He wakes up and for whatever reason, his eyes focus on the tie hanging off the side of the table.

Her gauntlets laying atop his suit jacket next to it.

Trapping the image for a moment, he closes his eyes, smiles, feels her warm hand slide over his arm, pulling him back towards her.

Fitz probably would be more than a little upset that he wore his hand to bed, but, he’s not going to tell Fitz about that.

She looks half awake and her hair is in every direction and he swears she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life.

Maybe she senses it, what he’s feeling?

Because she stretches and gets a cat-like grin, then touches her hand to his mouth, rubs her fingertips slowly over his lower lip.

Or maybe she just knows him that well.

“Good morning,” she says, sounding scratchy. “All clear?

She clears her throat after she says it, not trying to be funny, but he chuckles anyway.

“Yeah,” he says, kissing her fingertips, then leaning in to kiss her forehead.  
  
He got the call earlier, before dawn.  

But decided they could sleep in.

Hey, the extraction team got to sleep in, too.


End file.
